Fall From Love

by Heather London

  When I walk into class, I see a few familiar faces from the football game this weekend. Apparently, seeing me triggers their memory and whispers begin to fill the room. I walk over and sink into my chair, wanting to pull the hoodie over my head to hide. Becca sees me, closes her notebook and scoots down two chairs to sit beside me. She had called me a few times this weekend, but I didn’t answer or call her back. I feel bad for that, though I know what she wants to gossip about and I’m not in the mood for it—I wasn’t then and I’m sure as hell not now.

  “Holy shit. I heard about what happened this weekend at the Sigma house. Was it as bad as everyone says it was?” she asks me, her eyes are wide as she stares at me, anticipating my response.

  I nod. “Yep, it was pretty bad.”

  She scoffs and falls back into her chair. “God, men are such idiots. They’ll find any reason to start throwing punches. So tell me, what happened?”

  Professor Langford saves me by walking into class, making the stares and murmurs die down.

  “We are so talking about this later.” Becca sits up straight in her seat and flips open her notebook, preparing to take notes. Just as he opens his mouth to speak my cell phone starts to ring, causing the entire class to shift in their seats and look in my direction. Shit.

  Professor Langford sighs. “It seems that someone has forgotten the rules. Cell phones are to remain off or on silent during class.” My face is on fire as I reach into my bag and fumble around until I have my phone in my hands. My heart pounds when I see Carter’s name flash across the screen. I reject the call and the class turns back around as the lecture begins. I turn the ringer on silent, but then an overwhelming need to leave class and call him back takes over.

  “Becca,” I whisper through my teeth.

  She leans over and tilts her head in my direction, but keeps her eyes focused on the professor who’s writing something on the board.

  “Can I get a copy of your notes later? I have to leave.”

  She turns to face me and gives me a please-tell-me-you’re-kidding-me-right-now look.

  “It’s kind of an emergency,” I continue.

  “Um, so is this class.” Her voice is barely above a whisper. “He’s about to go over what will be on the test... you know, the killer ones.”

  I nod. “I know. Just take really good notes, okay? I’ll call you later.” I shove my notebook into my backpack and slide out of my seat as quietly as possible. The professor is facing the whiteboard and I’m only a few steps away from the door when he turns around and zeros in on me.

  “Do we have somewhere we need to be, Ms. Treadwell?”

  Shit, he knows who I am… so much for blending in. My body freezes a few feet from the door. I swallow a couple times and I can feel the entire class’s eyes on me.

  “Yeah, I have to leave. It’s kind of an emergency.” My knees are shaking now and I wait for him to threaten my grade, or tell me to sit back down, but he doesn’t. Instead, he stares at me for a short moment, nods his head and turns back towards the board.

  My legs move again and I hurry out the door before he changes his mind. Once I’m a safe distance from the classroom, I lean back up against the wall and place my hand on my chest. My heart is beating so hard, I’m afraid it is about to explode. Professor Langford knows who I am. He knows me by name and I just walked out of his class. The professor who has a reputation for flunking students for one freaking absence! The professor that gives out killer tests, the same tests that can totally cause me to not graduate if I flunk one. What the hell am I thinking? I’m so freaking screwed.

  To be honest, I’m not sure what drove me to get up and leave. I told both Becca and Professor Langford that it’s an emergency. Calling Carter back isn’t really an emergency, but I just know that I can’t wait until class is out to talk to him. When I get my breathing under control, I pull my phone out, scroll to his name and my thumb rolls over the call button for a second before I finally hit it.

  “Hey,” he answers on the first ring.

  “Hi.” I swallow back my nerves. “How are you?”

  He doesn’t answer me, but I know he’s there because I can hear him breathing.

  “Are you okay?” I ask, sensing something’s not right.

  “I’m—I don’t know what I am anymore.” His words are almost incoherent.

  “Have you been drinking?”

  He sighs. “Maybe.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Home. In bed.” His voice sounds muffled.

  “Is Josh there?”

  I hear a lot of static and then a loud clunk. “Hello?” Panic shoots through me as I press the phone harder against my ear.

  “Shit, sorry. I dropped the phone,” his slurred voice comes back over the line.

  “Are you alone?” I’m already outside and jogging down the steps, heading towards my car.

  “Uh, yeah. Why?”

  “I’m gonna come over.” I’m not sure why I just said that. I have no business going over there, especially when he’s like this, but for some reason, I don’t want him to be alone.

  “I don’t need a babysitter, Holly.”

  “I know,” I try to reassure him. “I’ve just finished up with school and… I, uh… I don’t feel like going home.” I roll my eyes and bite my lip at the poor attempt of an excuse.

  There is some more static and I assume he’s dropped the phone again. I hear him cuss before he comes back on the line. “Are you coming over now?”

  “Yeah, I’m getting in my car, so I’ll see you soon.”

  The line goes dead and, before I pull out of the parking space, I scan through my phone until I find Josh’s name. I press call, but it goes straight to voicemail.

  “Hi, Josh, this is Holly. I’m on my way over to your house. I just talked to Carter and he sounds drunk… really drunk. Anyway, I thought you may want to know.”

  I hang up and throw my phone in the seat beside me, putting my car in drive.

  CARTER

  “Shit!” I shout, jumping off my bed. After I try calling Holly and get nothing except her voicemail, I decide I’m going to pass out and sleep off my drunkenness. It takes me by surprise when she calls me back and tells me she’s heading over to my house.

  Using both arms for support, I lean against my dresser and get a good look at my reflection in the mirror. I grimace at the man staring back at me. The puffiness on my right cheek has started to diminish, but the swelling and cut on my lip still look pretty fresh. “What the fuck are you doing, man?” I ask the reflection staring back at me and my head falls down between my arms. “Shit,” I breathe, realizing I have about fifteen minutes before Holly gets here. Fifteen minutes to pull myself together. Fifteen minutes to sober up.

  Yanking my shirt over my head, I throw it on the bed and do the same with my jeans. I don’t even bother letting the water warm up before I jump in the shower. The ice cold water covers me and zaps me awake, making the reality of the situation all too real. After brushing my teeth and rinsing my mouth with mouthwash a few times, I throw on my jeans from earlier and pull on a clean t-shirt.

  Just as I’m putting on my boots, I hear a soft knock at the door. Before heading down, I lean over and look at myself in the mirror again. My eyes are still red and bloodshot, but it’s still an improvement from a few minutes ago. After running my hands through my hair a few times, I jog down the stairs to the front door.

  “Hey,” I say, opening the door and trying to keep the right side of my face turned away from her—the side that’s still red and puffy from the fight.

  “Oh, my God.” As hard as I try, she sees it anyway. Her eyes look me over and I feel embarrassed that she’s seeing me like this. I didn’t want her to see me get angry the other day with Travis, or the marks he left behind, and I sure as hell don’t want her to see me shitfaced drunk, either. I open the door a little wider and she walks in, never taking her eyes off me.

  “Hey, let me see,” she says, taking a step towards me. Slowly
, she raises her hand and grazes my right cheek. It doesn’t hurt too badly, but it’s still tender. I watch her face as she assesses the damage. I’m frozen where I stand, realizing at that moment that, even if it did hurt, I wouldn’t have flinched or breathed a word. She’s touching me... and any pain is worth that.

  “Does it still hurt?” She glances up and our eyes meet.

  “No,” I breathe out. “Not really.”

  She grins at me with sympathetic eyes, and if I didn’t feel like a pathetic loser about two seconds ago, I do now. The last thing I want from her is pity.

  “When was the last time you ate?” she asks, dropping her hands from my face and moving past me, towards the kitchen.

  My heart aches from the absence of her touch and I’m still drunk enough that I almost ask her to touch me again. “I don’t know. What day is it?” I answer instead.

  She turns her head back over her right shoulder and frowns at me. “It’s almost eleven a.m. on Wednesday.”

  I scan my mind, trying to remember the last time I ate something, but nothing registers. Shaking my head and feeling like even more of a pathetic loser, I answer her truthfully, “I’m not really sure.”

  She gives me another sympathetic grin and continues into the kitchen. She starts opening and closing cabinets. “Where do you guys keep the bread?”

  Pointing to the cabinet on her left, I can’t take my eyes off her. She’s moving around the kitchen like she’s on some type of mission. When she reaches up high to grab a plate from the top shelf, her shirt lifts, too, showing off her flat stomach. Tearing my eyes away, I slide down onto a bar stool and try to distract the thoughts running through my head—the thoughts about what the rest of her must look like with no clothes on. Damn, drunk thoughts. I shake my head and try to empty the dirty thoughts, knowing she deserves better. She turns and opens the refrigerator, pulling out some sliced cheese and butter.

  “How does a grilled cheese sound?” She twirls around and looks at me, smiling.

  To be honest, it sounds like the worst thing on the planet, but nothing sounds appetizing at the moment. As I sit here and look at her, I wonder why she’s being so nice to me and I don’t have the heart to tell her the truth. “Sounds good.”

  My eyes continue to follow her every movement around the kitchen.

  “Frying pan?” she asks me.

  “Down below you on the right.”

  She bends over and this time I’m not strong enough to tear my eyes away. Her jeans slip down and I get a peek at her pink underwear. Every nerve in my body reacts. When she stands back up, I glance down to the counter and don’t dare to look up again until I know she’s facing me. She leans over and rips off a paper towel and, laying four pieces of bread down, she starts to spread the butter across the top. She carefully lays two pieces of bread in the pan and then puts the cheese on top. The second the butter starts to melt and the smell hits my nose, my stomach lurches. I swallow a few times and, when I feel like I’m in the clear, I walk over to the sink and pour myself some water.

  “Sorry, I’m a terrible host. Would you like something to drink?” I ask her.

  “No, I’m okay. Thanks, though.”

  “Why are you doing this?” I ask her when I’m sitting back down. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

  She glances from the frying pan to my eyes and then back to the pan. “I know what it’s like to go through a hard time and I know what it’s like to have a good friend be there for you, too.” She shrugs as she flips over the sandwiches. “I guess I’m trying to be a good friend.” She glances back up at me and smiles softly. Through my drunken stupor, I try to analyze her smile to see if it’s a real one or a fake one. When I finally decide that it’s real, my body warms and relaxes.

  Then I remember what Jenna told me and I’m reminded that I’m an asshole. I’m an asshole for not telling her the truth about what happened that night. Even though Jenna says that she doesn’t want me to say anything, I don’t think it’s right for me to keep it from her. My stomach turns again, but this time it’s not from the smell of the butter or the cheese melting. It’s from the guilt that’s swirling around inside me; wondering if she did know the truth, would she still be here right now?

  “Here you go. Maybe these will make you feel better,” she says, causing my thoughts to dissolve. She sets down a plate with two grilled cheeses in front of me. “I’m not much of a cook, but grilled cheese and French toast are my two specialties.”

  “So you’re good at cooking things that involve slices of bread and a frying pan?”

  She thinks about what I just said and then she chuckles. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

  I smile back at her and then glance down at the food she just made me. “I feel bad that I’m the only one eating, do you want to share? I’m not sure I can eat both of them anyway.” I push the plate so it sits between us.

  “No, I’m not hungry.” She pushes it back. “Besides, you’re the one that needs to eat.”

  I nod my head and grin at her. “Thank you for this.”

  “You’re welcome.” She smiles.

  Chapter Ten

  We are not the same persons this year as last; nor are those we love. It is a happy chance if we, changing, continue to love a changed person.

  ~ W. Somerset Maugham

  HOLLY

  “C’mon, please? Pretty, pretty, pretty, please?” Jenna peppers Josh’s neck with kisses in between each of her requests.

  We’re sitting in a booth at Cosmo’s Pizza and it’s clear that Jenna has no problems expressing a little PDA, especially if it’s to get something she really wants. As I press my lips together and try not to laugh, I reach my eyes to the left and see Carter staring at them with a disgusted look on his face, which makes it even harder for me to contain my laughter. The four of us have pretty much been inseparable the last few weeks, especially on weekends. Carter and I have become close friends. We talk on the phone each night before bed and I find myself missing him when we are apart.

  “Jenna, it’s just a stupid Halloween party. Why do you want to go so bad anyway?” Josh asks, but the way his head is falling back and his eyes close with each kiss, it looks like he’s already lost the battle.

  Pulling back, she gives him the biggest puppy dog eyes and says, “Because it sounds like a lot of fun. We’re senior’s in college and it may be the last excuse we have to dress up and look like complete idiots.”

  Ever since we went skydiving, Jenna has been hell bent on doing everything and anything... living life on the edge as she calls it. I’m not sure that dressing up and going to a Halloween party constitutes living on the edge, but she’ll use the excuse whenever she can.

  “Seeing me in a costume doesn’t pique your interest?” She bites her lip as she trails her finger down his chest.

  Oh, she’s good.

  Carter coughs a couple times, I guess to remind them that we’re sitting directly across the table.

  “What are you smirking at?” Josh aims a pointed glare over at Carter.

  Carter just shakes his head. “You, man. It’s pretty pathetic.”

  “I don’t know why you think it’s so funny, ‘cause if I’m going to this thing, you sure as hell are, too.”

  “So, you’ll go?” Jenna’s face brightens.

  Josh curses under his breath and closes his eyes. When he opens them again, he looks directly at Carter and smiles wide. “Only if this asshole right here agrees to go, too.”

  Carter laughs, shaking his head. “No way, man. You’re on your own with this one.”

  Jenna’s already narrowed her puppy face onto her next victim. Carter. Josh smiles, crosses his arms, and leans back into the booth, totally pleased with himself.

  “Sorry, Jenna, it’s not going to happen,” Carter says. Even though his voice is firm, it’s easy to see he’s uncomfortable with the way she’s looking at him. He fidgets in his seat and refuses to meet her gaze. I’ve been in his position before and I know how hard it can be to
refuse her. What happens next totally catches me off guard.

  “He’ll go, if you go,” Jenna says, turning her gaze to me.

  “That’s right, Holly. All you have to do is ask Carter and he’ll go with you,” Josh agrees, smiling again.

  I hear a loud thud and see Josh wince and reach under the table. “Fuck, dude; that hurt.” Josh glares at Carter.

  “Um, I don’t think I’m up for it.” I want to die of embarrassment and I’m feeling more uncomfortable by the second. Jenna juts out her lower lip and I try not to look at her. “It’s really not my thing,” I tell them, playing with the straw in my glass. After a few seconds, I make the mistake of looking up and meeting her sad, puppy dog eyes.

  “Please?” Jenna tilts her head and clasps her hands together, looking pitiful.

  “Jenna, it’s just not my thing. I—”

  “Come on, you owe me,” she interrupts. “I jumped out of an airplane for you.” Please, she stresses the word silently to me.

  Dammit, she looks so sad, it’s pathetic and I can’t stand her begging anymore. “Fine, I’ll go,” I surrender.

  She smiles and claps her hands with quick, short movements. “The four of us are going to have so much fun. Just wait, I promise that you will all be thanking me for this later.”

  “Hold up. I didn’t agree to anything,” Carter says.

  “Shut up, dude.” Josh glowers at him. “You know you aren’t gonna let Holly go to a party all by herself. You’re always looking for ways to spend time with her.”

  What is happening here? I’m so uncomfortable that I’m tempted to just get up and walk away from the table—no, run from the table. I’m kind of curious to know what Carter’s face looks like right now, but I’m too nervous to look over at him. I’m sure he’s shooting a death glare in Josh’s direction anyway.

  “Okay, so it’s settled,” Jenna says. “Holly and I will start looking at costumes tomorrow. Since the party’s only a few days away, we will probably have slim pickings, but at least we’ll get some good deals.”